


saudade

by madkingbird



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Alcohol, Alternate Realities, Alternate Universe, Angst, Dancing, Festivals, Implied/Referenced Character Death, M/M, Pining
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-27
Updated: 2020-09-27
Packaged: 2021-03-08 00:48:18
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,655
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26686912
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/madkingbird/pseuds/madkingbird
Summary: A Keith from one reality meets a Shiro from another reality.
Relationships: Keith/Shiro (Voltron)
Comments: 16
Kudos: 65
Collections: Across Realities





	saudade

**Author's Note:**

> Hello ;w;!! This is my fic for the Across Realities Sheith Anthology!! I've had this idea for a while now (I think since 2017), so finally taking the chance to write it was the best choice I ever made! Honestly, this particular idea was inspired by a [post](https://nataliaromancv-blog.tumblr.com/post/104868964571) on Tumblr. Also, the name Tarlowe and the planet Cimmerian are names from the game Destiny 2 :)!
> 
> I had so much fun being in this Anthology!! I hope y'all enjoyed the art and fic that has come out of it, and I hope you enjoy this fic as well ^_^!
> 
> (And thank you to my beta for checking this over and dealing with me dying over this fic <3 ilysm!)

There’s a pulsating vortex in front of him, bright blue like the morning sky, with flecks of white that remind him of stars. It beckons him closer, tempting him to touch it and figure out all of its secrets—a dangerous thought, since he doesn’t know what lurks on the other side.

Keith found the portal when he was out on a walk, exploring the planet he decided to stop at for a quick rest. Something called to him—much like the Blue Lion once did—and he didn’t hesitate to follow it. 

He wound up in an abandoned Galra facility that barely had power, and in the depths of the building, there was an old lab with broken machinery and old terminals scattered around the room. The portal was in the center of it all, and the sight of it hypnotized him, luring him closer with a whisper of his name. 

“What do you want from me?” he wonders out loud, reaching towards it. 

He probably shouldn’t touch it, but there’s a part of him, reckless and curious, that’s encouraging him to do it. Keith’s learned over the years that it’s easier to trust his instincts when dealing with quintessence-related things, so he brushes his hand over the wisps of the portal. 

It feels like he’s running his fingers through a stream of water, and the energy coming off the portal sends a tingle down his spine. He shudders and pulls his hand back, watching as small white wisps float off his skin and dissipate into the air. 

“Huh,” he says, trying not to feel disappointed. He expected something more. 

After he finishes that thought, a glowing white hand shoots out of the portal and reaches toward him. Keith hears another call of his name, distorted and desperate, and he grabs the hand without a second thought. It grips his own tightly, and Keith feels resistance when he tries to pull whoever’s on the other side through. 

“Come on,” Keith says through gritted teeth, struggling despite his Galra strength. It’s probably a bad idea to do this, but no alarm bells are going off in his head, so Keith trusts that things will turn out okay. 

The world goes silent around him when Keith starts tugging harder, the portal warping around their enclosed hands. Suddenly, there’s a loud _pop,_ and then Keith finally manages to pull the other person through. They fall to the ground together, twin groans filling the air. 

Keith blinks up at the ceiling, his eyes adjusting to the dimly-lit room after the portal disappears. He looks down at the figure lying half on top of him, and all he sees is snow-white hair. The person doesn’t seem to be moving, which worries Keith. 

He gives them a shake and says, “Hey, don’t be dead.” 

They stir beneath his touch, releasing a groan. “Sorry,” they say in a groggy voice. “Reality jumping takes a lot out of me.” There’s a soft whirring sound as the person moves their right arm to push themselves up, and they hover over Keith for a moment. 

Keith can’t quite contain his gasp when familiar gunmetal grey eyes meet his own, freezing in place. The other man appears to be just as shocked at Keith, judging by his wide-eyed look. 

“Keith,” he says. 

“Shiro,” Keith chokes out, feeling like his heart might jump out of his chest. 

His shock soon fades into relief over having physical proof that his instincts were correct, and then it’s followed by a yearning that Keith spent years trying to bury. It urges him to take a good long look at the Shiro above him, and Keith’s too weak to resist. 

He greedily drinks in Shiro’s features, thankful that his Galra side allows him to see better in the dark. The scar across the bridge of his nose hasn’t changed, and his hair is still the color of snow. Keith notices the hints of a scruff along his jaw and thinks that it gives Shiro an older, rugged look. There’s also a tenderness in his eyes that Keith hadn’t realized he missed, which cements the idea that this is definitely Shiro. 

“Keith,” he says again, voice soft. “I can’t believe I found you.” Then, he smiles. “It’s so good to see you.” 

_Except it can’t be Shiro,_ Keith reminds himself when the rational side of his brain kicks in, grief piercing his heart once again. _Shiro’s been dead for five years, six months, and twenty-seven days._

★ ★ 

“Is this really necessary?” 

“I’m confirming your identity,” Keith says, carefully pricking Shiro’s finger with a needle to get a blood sample to scan with his datapad. They’re currently in the storage room of his ship. Shiro’s sitting on a large crate while Keith stands in front of him. “You came out of a glowing portal, and you’re wearing the face of my best friend,” he tells him. “I’d rather be safe than sorry.” He glances at Shiro and adds, “I’m sure you understand.” 

Shiro frowns but nods in acquiescence. “Of course,” he says quietly, eyes fixed on Keith’s face. “You look different.” 

“Do I?” Keith asks mildly. “I hadn’t noticed.” 

“Have you always had your Galra features?” Shiro asks next, leaning into Keith’s space. “Or did they appear recently?” 

“No, not always,” Keith answers, taking a step back to put some space between them. Every fiber of his being is screaming at him to stay beside Shiro, but the ache in his chest tells him that it’s a terrible idea. “They appeared during an incident a few years back, and they’ve been with me ever since.” 

“What happened?” 

His datapad creaks in his hands when he suddenly grips it tightly, jaw clenched as he stares down at the loading screen. He can remember the day like it was yesterday—the rage that consumed his body and fueled the need for vengeance, the weight of his blade as he tore through his enemies, and the complete silence when it was all over. 

The taste of salt on his lips as his grief split his soul in two, and the crushing weight of loneliness as he stood in the center of destruction with his heart lying cold on the floor. 

A small _‘ding’_ prevents him from answering, and he focuses on the datapad. His mouth twists when the results tell him that the blood _is_ a match, and his brows furrow when he sees the detection of high quintessence levels. 

“Does this have to do with the ‘reality jumping’ you mentioned?” Keith asks, showing Shiro the screen. 

Shiro peers down at it with pursed lips, and then his face lights up. “Oh, yes!” He looks up at Keith. “The levels will go back to normal once my body adjusts to being in this reality, which usually happens after a week or two. Nothing to worry about.” 

“So, you’ve done this before.” 

“Only a few times. It can be taxing on the body if you do it too much.” Shiro looks around the room. “Hey, where am I? The other me, I mean.” 

Keith arches a brow, ignoring the way his hands go clammy over the question. “What?” 

“I thought I’d be out here with you,” Shiro says, frowning. “I can’t imagine leaving your side for anything. Did you guys separate for something? Are you going to meet up with your Shiro later? Do you travel with him a lot?” 

“He’s not here,” Keith says shortly. 

“Well, where is he?” 

“Where are you staying?” Keith asks instead of answering. 

“Oh! Um…” Shiro rubs the back of his neck, looking a little sheepish—an expression that causes fondness to flood through Keith. He almost forgot how cute it looked. “You can drop me off somewhere local, I guess.” 

Keith stares at him for a few seconds before sighing. He can’t just dump Shiro somewhere and leave him to fend for himself, and this thought causes him to make a stupid decision. 

“Hold on,” he mutters, crossing the room to search through one of his crates. Keith pulls out a few food rations, some water pouches, a large blanket, and a spare change of clothes. “Here,” he says when he returns to Shiro’s side, handing the bundle over. “You can stay with me until you decide to go back to your reality.” 

“Are you sure?” Shiro asks. “I don’t want to be a burden, Keith. You probably have more important things to do.” 

Keith turns away and shuts his eyes, the sound of his name leaving Shiro’s lips threatening to shake him apart. He lets out a breath that’s more like a forlorn sigh, making his way towards the doors that lead into the cockpit. 

“Keith?” 

He stops at the doorway and looks back at him, hoping that his grief isn’t showing on his face. It’s gotten too big to contain, overflowing and spilling down the sides until it’s all that he can feel. 

“Nothing’s more important than you,” Keith confesses in a whisper, swallowing the other three words that desperately want to come out. He doesn’t want to say it, not when this Shiro already has a Keith in his reality who says the same thing. Those words have no place in this world. 

He lingers long enough to see the way Shiro’s eyes go wide, and he almost smiles when he spies the pink dusting his cheek. Keith slips through the doors to prepare himself for another long journey through the stars. 

(If he takes a moment to clutch the controls tightly while tears slip down his cheeks, no one’s around to judge him.) 

★ ★ 

“How long has it been since you last visited Earth?” 

They’re currently in the Axion system, drifting through a sea of greens and yellows on autopilot. There’s a cluster of planets below them, and Keith’s waiting to receive permission to land on one of them (specifically, the one that has a small market that Keith discovered when he passed by a year ago). 

“A while,” Keith answers, gaze fixed on the twinkling stars ahead of him. 

They’ve only been traveling together for a few days now, and Keith’s already found a difference between this Shiro and the one he knew. 

This Shiro is so talkative, eager to learn about what’s around them, showing off his knowledge of space and its various occupants. He even offers tidbits about his reality, making a cute little fist pump whenever Keith points out the similarities between theirs. 

(“We don’t have reality jumping in mine, though,” Keith told him one morning. 

“Maybe that’s the difference between ours,” Shiro mused and then smiled. “And your Galra features, of course.” 

“Why are you so focused on them? You bring them up all the time.” 

Shiro’s cheeks went pink, which was obvious under the light of the moon they’d been passing, and he looked away. “I just think they’re nice.”) 

If it were anyone else, Keith would be annoyed with all of the chatter. Instead, he’ll sit back in his seat and let Shiro’s voice wash over him. It helps abate the ache that resides in his chest, numbing the throbbing pain until he can almost forget it exists. 

“How come?” 

“Space needs me more than Earth,” Keith replies, tapping his fingers along the console. “I also have no reason to go back.” 

“Not even for me—er, the other me?” 

Sometimes, Shiro’s questions toe the line of the painful memories that Keith would rather not think about. He can’t begrudge the other man for asking after his alternate self. It’s what Keith would do if he happened to visit another reality, but he wishes Shiro would quit asking. 

“How are you going to get back to your reality?” Keith asks, dodging the question, and glances at him. “The portal disappeared after you came through.” 

Shiro shoots him a look that seems to say, ‘I know what you’re doing,’ but he says nothing about the subject change. 

“I usually search for a new portal after my quintessence levels drop back to normal,” he replies with a shrug. “They’re not uncommon, but they can take a while to find. Most realities haven’t created the technology to track them, so that means I’m usually on my own.” Shiro holds up his bionic arm, which is white with the seams glowing bright blue (Altean tech, he assumes). “This actually helps me detect the energy that the portals give off, which makes things easier.” 

“That’s cool,” Keith says and means it. “How long have you been doing this?” 

“A few years,” Shiro replies. “It’s very popular where I come from, and a lot of people do it for different reasons. Research and honeymoons are common reasons for reality jumping, and some even do it to find the people they’ve lost.” His lips twitch, and Keith notices a touch of sadness in his eyes. “Most of the time, people are looking for a better life. A place where they can belong.” 

“And what are you looking for?” Keith dares to ask. 

Shiro stares at him with an emotion that Keith can’t quite name. “Somewhere I can feel complete,” he says quietly. 

Keith doesn’t know how to respond to that, and thankfully, he doesn’t have to. His communicator pings with an incoming message, and he quickly turns it on to receive it. 

_“Entry granted to Captain Kogane of the Blades of Marmora. Welcome to Cimmerian.”_

“Captain, huh?” 

He looks over at Shiro, taken aback by the soft, proud expression on Shiro’s face. “Yeah,” Keith says, heat rushing to his cheeks. “I was promoted a long time ago.” 

“Wow,” Shiro says, smiling at him. “I always knew that you were going to be someone amazing, Keith.” 

“Thanks,” Keith says, focusing on the controls of his ship while the tips of his pointed ears burn. 

One thing that Keith hates about having Shiro around is his openness, and the praise he doles out whenever he hears of Keith’s accomplishments. It only serves as a reminder of what he once had, and what he’ll soon lose when Shiro goes back to his own reality. 

What he’ll never have again. 

“Buckle up,” he orders after shaking off the thought, gesturing to the copilot’s seat. “The gravitational pull can make things a little bumpy.” 

“I’m fine where I am,” Shiro replies, leaning against one of the walls. “I trust that you’ll make the ride as smooth as possible.” He smiles, and Keith can see a hint of a challenge in his eyes. “Come on, hotshot,” he says next. “Show me what you’ve got.” 

Keith’s lips tug up into a smirk as a thrill races down his spine. “Sure you can handle it, _old timer_?” he teases, and immediately sends them into a downward spiral to prevent Shiro from answering. 

The sound of Shiro’s joyful laughter is like music to his ears (and oh, how he missed the sound). 

★ ★ 

“Why are we here again?” Shiro asks a couple of hours later. They’re currently making their way through the markets, with Keith leading the way. 

“We’re getting you some new clothes and supplies,” Keith says. A few aliens wave in his direction, recognizing him from his previous visit, and he offers one in return. “Also, we’re running low on food.” He wasn’t prepared to have an extra person on board, so they’ve gone through more than half of his rations. 

“What’s wrong with what I’m wearing?” Shiro asks, and Keith can hear the pout in his voice. 

Keith looks him over and feels his mouth go dry. It’s a reaction he has every time he sees Shiro in this particular outfit. “Nothing,” he says. “But I thought you might like something else to wear.” 

He’s wearing the same clothes he was in when he arrived in this reality. It’s simple and form-fitting—a pair of black joggers tucked into black boots, a dark grey T-shirt that stretches across his chest, and a worn-in black jacket that looks like it’s been through a lot. 

Other than the change of clothes that Keith lent him (the ones that barely fit), it’s pretty much all he has. 

“You don’t have to do that,” Shiro says. “I can pay for myself.” 

“I want to,” Keith says firmly. “Let me handle it, okay? Think of it as my gift to you. Something to remember me by.” 

Shiro’s lips go thin for a moment, an indiscernible expression on his face, but then it’s gone in the next second and replaced with one of exasperation. “All right,” he says. “Just this once, I’ll allow it.” 

“I don’t need your permission to buy you things,” Keith retorts playfully and then turns to the stall to look through the clothes. One of the black sweaters catches his eye, and he thinks that it would look nice on Shiro. 

“What do you think?” Keith asks the man, brushing a hand down the smooth fabric. 

No response comes, and, when he looks over, he sees that Shiro is gone. 

Keith freezes, eyes fixed on the spot where Shiro once stood. He looks around wildly, panic starting to build when there’s no sign of broad shoulders or snow-white hair. He quickly tells the merchant that he’ll come back later, darting down the street and weaving past crowds of people to try and find Shiro. 

“Shiro!” he calls out, garnering attention from a few people passing by. A merchant comes forward to talk to him, but Keith hears nothing beyond the rush of blood in his ears. His mind starts to work against him, bringing up the images of what happened when he lost Shiro before. 

A hand grabs his shoulder, and he’s about to knock it off when a familiar voice says, “Hey, I’m right here.”

Keith whirls around, staring up at Shiro with wide-eyed relief. “You’re okay,” he breathes, reaching out to clutch his arms tightly. He tips his head forward to rest it against Shiro’s chest, focusing on the warmth that Shiro exudes to calm himself. “You’re okay…” 

“Yeah, I’m fine.” Shiro sounds bewildered and concerned, but Keith doesn’t care, because Shiro’s okay and breathing and _alive._

He remembers himself after a while and pulls away, though he still keeps Shiro within reach. “Sorry,” he murmurs, cheeks flushed with embarrassment. “I guess I was a little worried.” 

“Don’t be sorry,” Shiro says. “I should have told you that I was going to check out another stall.” He smiles at Keith, self-deprecating, and understanding. “I would have reacted the same way if you suddenly disappeared.” 

Keith wants to ask what he means by that, but a group of aliens pass by and bump into him. He steadies himself on Shiro’s arm and notices that they’re in the center of traffic. 

“Come on,” Keith says, tugging him over to a secluded aisle between two stalls. “What caught your attention earlier?” he asks curiously. 

“Oh, uh.” Shiro pulls out a slip of paper from his jacket pocket and hands it over. “There’s going to be a meteor shower tomorrow night,” he explains. “It only happens once every few years, so the people here like to honor it with a festival. It’s why things are super busy around here.” 

“I was planning on leaving after we got what we needed,” Keith says with a frown. 

“Can’t we stay a little bit longer?” Shiro asks, and this is when he pulls out the puppy dog eyes. “Please?” 

Keith, unable to deny Shiro anything (especially in the face of that), sighs. “Fine,” he replies, peering down at the paper. It contains details about the festival, promising free food, games, music, and a place where people can sit to watch the meteor shower. “We should still get something more comfortable to wear if we’re going to be sitting outside,” he insists. 

“Sounds good,” Shiro says with a nod, and then lights up. “How about this? You pick my outfit, and I’ll pick yours?” 

“That’s weird and unnecessary.” 

“You’re already going to buy me something! It’s only fair that I do the same in return.” 

Keith shakes his head and says, “You don’t have to, Shiro. I can pay for myself.” 

“I don’t need your permission to buy you things,” Shiro snarks, eyes full of amusement. He grabs one of Keith’s hands and squeezes it, and Keith’s heart skips a beat. “What if we split up for a while to keep it a surprise?” he asks. 

Keith feels a flash of fear at the suggestion, but he quickly squashes it down. There’s no need to be afraid when he’ll see Shiro again. “Sounds good,” he replies, squeezing his hand back. 

They part ways, and Keith takes a moment to cover his chest with one hand. 

He’s already in too deep, ensnared by Shiro’s orbit, and he doesn’t know if there’s a way out at this point. The fractured parts of his soul are slowly beginning to heal, and it’s all thanks to the man who entered his life so suddenly. 

“But it won’t last,” Keith reminds himself in a whisper, nails digging into his palm. “Nothing ever lasts.” 

And that’s the bitter truth. 

★ ★ 

The outfit that Shiro bought for him consists of tight black pants and a soft red sweater. They’re both comfortable and easy to move in, something that pleases Keith, and they’re clothes that he would have picked out for himself. 

“Good job, Shiro,” he mutters to himself. He combs his hair back with his fingers and gathers it into a ponytail, wanting to look a little presentable, and then checks his reflection. 

Keith flicks his gaze over his features, from the hint of fang poking out of his mouth to the tips of his pointed ears to his cat-like eyes that glow a muted yellow. A few wisps of hair curl around his face, which is devoid of any exhaustion. 

He looks… good. Happy, in a way that makes him almost unrecognizable. It’s been a few years since Keith’s looked and felt this way, so it’s a little strange—and he knows it was a result of _that_ incident. 

There’s a knock on the bathroom door, which makes him jump and reflexively reach back for his blade. “Keith?” Shiro’s voice calls out, and he relaxes. “The festival is going to start soon. We should get going.” 

Keith clears his throat. “I’ll be right out,” he replies in a steady voice, letting out a breath when he hears Shiro walking away. The reminder that he’s going to spend the whole night in Shiro’s presence in a date-like setting makes his heart race. His cheeks burn at the idea, and he splashes cold water on his face to calm down. 

“It’s not like that,” he berates himself. “Don’t think that it means more.” 

Shiro’s sitting on the bed when Keith exits the bathroom, and his mouth drops open for some reason. “Keith…” he breathes, standing up and moving closer. “You look— _god._ ” Keith watches as he visibly swallows, a hand clenched at his side. “You look good,” he finally says with a crooked smile. “You look really good.” 

“So do you,” Keith replies, sweeping his gaze over Shiro. 

He’s wearing the black sweater Keith was inspecting earlier, which fits snug around his upper body. It’s paired with black pants similar to Keith’s, and the scruff along his jaw seems to be neatly trimmed. 

Shiro looks devastatingly handsome, and Keith wonders how the hell he’s going to make it through the rest of the night. 

★ ★ 

The answer comes in the form of alien space mead. 

Keith drinks three cups while they’re strolling through the festival grounds, but he only starts feeling the effects when he’s halfway through his fourth. He has an easier time handling his alcohol thanks to his Galra half. 

The festival is full of bright lights and loud music, and it seems like everyone’s having a good time. There’s a big timer in the center of it all that’s counting down to when the meteor shower will start, and the crowd buzzes with anticipation as the numbers continue to drop. 

Shiro drags him to a cluster of stalls that have several games, and they have a friendly competition to see who can win the most. Despite being a little tipsy, Keith manages to pull through and wins a prize from the game vendor. It’s a plushy that looks to be a mix of a wolf and a fox, and Keith immediately holds it out to Shiro. 

“You can have it,” he says and tells himself that his burning cheeks are from the mead. “Another thing to remember me by.” 

Keith swears that he sees Shiro’s face fall for a moment, but it’s clear when he blinks to focus. He must have imagined it, then. 

“Thanks,” Shiro says quietly, taking the plushy and wrapping his arms around it. “I guess I should win something for you.” The corner of his mouth lifts. “That way, you can remember me, too.” 

He feels a pang of hurt at the reminder that Shiro won’t be staying and quickly averts his gaze. “You don’t have to,” Keith says. “This night will be enough for me.” 

They keep walking around, stopping at any stalls or games that catch their eye. Eventually, the lights go dim around them, and the crowds of people start heading towards an open field. 

“We should find a higher point,” Keith suggests, frowning when someone squeezes between himself and Shiro and nearly causes them to split up. He finds himself reaching out to grab Shiro’s hand, interlocking their fingers. “So we don’t get lost,” he says when Shiro shoots him a questioning look. 

Shiro smiles and squeezes his hand. “Okay,” he says, sounding happy, and Keith’s heart skips a beat. “There’s a big hill off to the side. Wanna go up there?” 

“Sounds good.” 

They separate from the rest of the crowd and make their way towards the hill, continuing to hold hands even when they’re alone. There’s a large part of Keith that never wants to let go, wants to keep Shiro tethered to this reality so they can continue to stay together. 

When they reach the summit, Shiro pulls his hand away to set the plushy down on the ground. Keith’s hand is still reaching out for Shiro, mourning the loss, so he clenches it and drops it to his side. He turns his head to look at the people gathering in the open fields, ears twitching when he hears soft music coming from that direction. 

“Hey, Keith?” 

Keith looks back at Shiro and sees that he’s holding out his bionic hand. “Will you dance with me?” Shiro asks, gazing at him with so much hope that it makes his stomach flip-flop. 

Maybe it’s the sweet mead, or maybe it’s because it’s _Shiro_ who’s asking, but Keith finds himself reaching out to take the outstretched hand. He internally berates himself for accepting the offer, reminding himself that it’ll only lead to heartbreak, but then Shiro tugs him close enough for their chests to touch, and all of his worries dissipate like smoke. 

He jumps a little when an arm snakes around his waist, and he smiles up at Shiro to ease the worry on his face. 

“Is this okay?” Shiro asks in a low voice as they begin to sway to the distant music. 

“Yeah,” Keith murmurs, shifting closer to rest his head on Shiro’s shoulder. He closes his eyes and breathes him in, pretending that the last five years of grieving didn’t happen. “It’s perfect.” 

They slow dance together beneath the twinkling stars, Shiro’s bionic hand becoming warm in his own. It feels like it’s just the two of them in the universe, existing in this one singular moment that seems to last for an eternity. 

“Keith,” Shiro says after a while, voice soft. “Can I try something?” 

Keith pulls back so he can look up at him, and seeing the nervous expression on his face almost makes him smile. “Sure,” he says. “Go ahead.” 

And that’s when Shiro leans in and seals their lips together, the sky lighting up above them. Keith’s too shocked to do anything at first, not expecting _that_ to be what Shiro wanted to try. Eventually, his eyes slip shut, and he starts kissing back, one hand clutching the back of Shiro’s sweater tightly. 

“I hope that was okay,” Shiro murmurs after he’s pulled away. 

“It was—” _Everything I’ve ever wanted,_ Keith wants to say, but the words seem trapped in his throat. His eyes start to well up with tears, and he bites the inside of his cheek to stop them from leaking out. He shouldn’t have allowed that, and he shouldn’t be thinking about wanting more. 

“I need to go,” he ends up saying and steps away from Shiro. “I’m sorry.” 

A metal hand grasps his wrist before Keith can walk off, and it’s loose enough for Keith to get out of it if he wanted. “Don’t go,” Shiro says, voice low and pleading. “And don’t shut me out, Keith. Talk to me, please. Tell me what’s wrong.” 

Keith tenses, staring down at his hand. He should pull away, and he knows that Shiro wouldn’t press the issue if he left, but the yearning that hides deep in his heart begs him to allow this. “I can’t, Shiro,” he says tiredly. 

“Why?” 

He doesn’t answer, mouth set into a firm line, and face turned away. 

“Is it because of me? Did I do something wrong, or was it the other me?” A pause, and then Shiro’s voice comes out slow and careful, “What happened with us, Keith?” 

“No, nothing happened.” Keith frees himself from Shiro’s hold and crosses his arms, putting some distance between them by taking a step back. It doesn’t make it any easier. “I just—” He hunches in on himself. “I just can’t let myself get close to you, okay?”

“Why not?” Shiro asks, sounding so hurt, and that makes Keith give in. 

“I’ve already lost you once,” Keith admits quietly, the cracks in his heart splintering open. “I can’t risk losing you again.” A sad smile stretches across his face as he glances over at Shiro. “Which will happen regardless,” he says. “You’ve got your own reality to get back to, Shiro. I’m sure I’m waiting for you over there.” 

Shiro stares back at him silently, hands clenched at his sides. He seems to be fighting with himself over something, hesitation shown in the way his eyes flit away from Keith and back. Finally, he says in a quiet voice, “You’re wrong.” 

Keith frowns. He can’t imagine a reality where he’s not waiting for Shiro or doing everything he can to bring him back home. “What do you mean?” he asks. 

“There’s nothing there for me in my reality. No one’s waiting for me.” Shiro lets out a sad laugh that tugs at his heartstrings. “It probably would have been you, once upon a time, but I lost you after the war ended.” 

“Shiro,” Keith whispers. 

“I came into this reality to find you, Keith.” Shiro looks pained, and the grief in his eyes is all-too-familiar. “I lost you five years ago during a mission with the Blades. It was supposed to be a simple supply run, but things got out of control. We ended up in the middle of a fight for the planet.” He takes a ragged breath, staring down at his hands while Keith remains frozen in place. “One side, I don’t remember which, had hired a bounty hunter, a person named—” 

“Tarlowe,” Keith says with Shiro, and his insides _tremble._

“We didn’t know about them until it was too late,” Shiro continues, eyes closed. Keith wonders if he’s seeing the moment in his head as it happened back then, reliving it like Keith has done so many times before. “All I could do was hold you in my arms while you died, and you still smiled up at me like I was the best thing you had ever seen.” 

Keith can’t believe it. “That’s how you died in my reality,” he tells him, shocked, and steps closer. “Tarlowe shot you down, and you were fading by the time I reached you. I couldn’t do anything to save you. After you took your last breath, I went off on a rampage.” He gestures to his face. “And that’s when these came in.” 

“Oh,” Shiro says. “I thought—” He cuts himself off and laughs, covering his face with a hand. “I thought you still had him around, and that’s why you wanted me gone.” He peers at Keith through his fingers, vulnerability in his eyes. “Do you?” 

“No,” he breathes and finally closes the distance between them. He reaches up to pry Shiro’s hand away from his face, heart jumping at the shyness he sees there. “I never wanted you to leave,” he says. “I just thought you had to get back to your Keith.” 

“We’re a pair of idiots, aren’t we?” 

Keith laughs, pressing their foreheads together. “I guess we are,” he says, feeling a little overwhelmed. 

He also feels unbelievably happy. What are the odds of the universe giving him a Shiro that lost his Keith in the same moment that he lost his Shiro? Perhaps it’s giving them this chance as an apology for how it wronged them. 

“If you ask me to stay,” Shiro murmurs, breath ghosting over Keith’s lips. “I will.” 

There’s still much to talk about, like what this means for them and how they can move forward together. He’s not too worried, though. They have the rest of their lives to figure things out. 

“Stay with me?” Keith asks softly, wrapping his arms around Shiro again. “Please?” 

Shiro answers with a kiss, and two broken hearts begin to mend as they whisper those three words they never got to say to their respective other halves. Meteors streak through the sky above them, and the universe finally feels complete.

**Author's Note:**

> Talk to me about sheith on [twitter](https://twitter.com/viribird)!


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